


the ghost of you

by anarcho-vampirism (lumbercapt)



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: WIP, bella on a solo adventure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:48:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24193828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumbercapt/pseuds/anarcho-vampirism
Summary: ”she’s always been a constant little thing.” - charlie swanWhen Edward left, he took with him a future and a family that Bella would never get over. Four years and an enduring vampire obsession later, she finds herself vampirized and alone. With no guidance, she struggles to adjust to her new life without hurting anyone and realizes that tracking down the Cullens may be her only hope for help.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	1. the end

It was 3:00am, and too cold out for walks of enjoyment. But this wasn't one. Again, I couldn't sleep. Not when I knew that one of _them_ was in town, and I was missing my chance. Instead I marched past silent buildings, searching for a sight, a sound, to tip me off. Yesterday's rain glittered on the sidewalk under streetlights.

I held a slim can of hairspray in my hand, the long end hidden up the sleeve of my coat. In the other was a red bic lighter. I clutched my only defence with frozen fingers. I needed something to cling to.

The street was empty, but someone was here. I might not get more warning than the hair on the back of my neck rising.

"Have you ever met a vampire with yellow eyes?" I rasped into the dark.

There was a breeze, and suddenly I was looking into a pair of eyes. Red ones, far too close. It was impossible not to flinch, but I did not look away.

I'd finally done it, found one of _them,_ I realized. I was elated even as I was filled with fear.

"What do you know, little one?" he asked. His movements were small, but erratic - too fast for me to see properly. I stepped back involuntarily.

I tried to ask again, stuttering. He laid a cold hand against my cheek.

"I'm curious," he said evenly. "But I think you know too much."

His face opened into a snarl.


	2. waking up

I was freed from the pain in the time just after dawn. For a moment, the absence of pain was all I could comprehend. It felt like freefall - I had expected the pain to fade out, to linger. But a crisp line divided the time in which I had been in pain, and now. Nothing at all tied me to the previous moment.

Everything was so clear. The sky above me was not gray, but a million different colours, all reflecting from the clouds and which could only be described as a gallery called "gray." I could smell the coming rain, and a delirious, hallucinogenic delight shot through me at the beautiful, and now incredibly detailed scent. The feeling was so strong, I wanted to giggle. 

Then, I was occupied by the exact texture of the brick wall beneath which I laid, and had, probably, for days. It framed the alley I was in, a pillow to the dirty gravel underneath me.

I stood, intending to further examine my surroundings, and then sucked in a deep breath: a reflex of shock. My new mind was powerful enough to process two things at once:

First, that my movement was hardly movement, but a wish granted. I had hardly but to think that I wished to stand, and then I was there, standing. The suddenness of my own movement startled me, and unfamiliar instincts left me in a crouch that felt as natural as breathing.

Secondly, that, though there was no one immediately near me, I could hear people talking. And breathing. Many people. Presumably inside the buildings that were planted all around me. And I could hear their  _ wet  _ hearts beating.

I felt like several identical people existing inside one head, all paying attention to the world at once and contributing their experiences to a composite Bella, like children wearing a tall trenchcoat together. One of me idly tried to remember what had led to this moment. Oh, right. The flames.

But something else, too. Something had been so important to me while I was embroiled in the flames. It had been something vital, I was sure, but it had left me as suddenly and completely as the pain.

At the same time as I was testing my memory, I was paying obsessively close attention to the people who I could hear. My posture listed toward the brick wall which hid their warm sounds and separated them from me. The simple one two, one two, coming from many different sources at once, was the most intricate and seductive rhythm I had ever heard.

I understood my strange preoccupation almost instantly, once I thought to consider it. I was geared to pay such attention to humans.

I was a vampire now.

I must be thirsty.

At that thought, my throat constricted.

It was like the fire had returned, but it concentrated only in my throat. I swallowed reflexively, and the back of my tongue felt like the coarsest sandpaper against the back of my throat. My hands flew up to grab at my throat, scratching uselessly at the stone skin they found there. They affected nothing. I felt like my knees ought to buckle, but of course my new body did not do such things. I listed a few steps forward, and the motion felt drunk, but only in the sense that I was not in control of it. My feet were, for the first time ever, perfectly steady.

The question was how to get what I craved. I was confident I could break into this building - or destroy it completely - and a laugh bubbled out of me at the thought of bursting through the brick wall like the Kool Aid mascot, ready to spill what was sticky and red. My laugh was dazzling, like flutes and tropical birds, and reminded me of the sound of a glass of wine made to sing with a finger or the tap of a utensil.

The warmth...

What had I been forgetting again?

I would go inside this building and get what I wanted. This time, expecting the effortless response of my new limbs, I willed myself to be on the street. My body obliged, and I vaulted over an abandoned couch which lay strewn between me and the street without difficulty, landing outside of the alley's shade. 

Only to be blinded! I sputtered a hiss, immediately falling back into another crouch against the dirty sofa. I could smell the pizza nights it had seen, and was grateful for its shelter. What had obscured my vision?

Again, after asking the question, I realized the answer so quickly it must have been in the same moment.  _ I  _ had obscured my vision. My skin - now hard as stone, smooth as satin - had dazzled in the sunlight that flowed through the street, just as Edward's had in the meadow. Oh. Edward.

Oh, Edward.

What I had been forgetting! I was finally like him! I had gotten what I was looking for! I would be able to find him now. I would no longer need to scrounge for leads, hoping to meet a vampire, any vampire, from whom I could beg for information. It had been a terrible, awful, dangerous idea… And I'd gone ahead with it anyways. A lonely human, wandering the streets at night in search of vampires. It was fortunate that I had ended up dead in such a way that allowed me to continue my search. The thought of my old self, wandering, exposed and vulnerable and human, almost made me feel…

What had happened, again? Already, the memory seemed blurry. Distorted. It had the quality of a corrupted VHS tape, an unreal quality. I had been out alone, at night, for the third night in a row. Spending nearly all my waking hours outside, walking the streets, muttering about vampires and hoping to be heard. Like a crazy person. But I'd had reason to believe there was a vampire out there to find; I had been reading about a string of unusually tidy disappearances, heading south down the pacific coast. The Canadian authorities had connected a couple of them, and for some reason, completely ignored some of the cases. They didn't seem to be making any progress towards solving the case. I had guessed at the nature of the perpetrator. And so I knew when they might be in town.

Lucky me. I had gotten one thing I wanted, or half of it, anyways. Eternity without Edward seemed about as dreary as the human life (a wet, cold and miserable one) I'd been living up until now. But I couldn't remember if I had gotten what I was actually looking for, which was information. I had ended up down this alley somehow, but I couldn't recall that, either. Somehow, I didn't think I had walked here on my own two feet. Who would do this, change me, and leave me here where I, a newborn vampire, could do untold damage?!

I was suddenly horrified with myself. All this deliberation and recollection had sidetracked me from what I had been about to do, without a second thought, until moments ago! 

That scared me. Disgusted me, even as I had trouble holding onto the thought as my throat burned. So much of my mind clamoured with it, the volume increasing as I gave it attention. I shook my head violently, trying to clear my mind. I had already known that even for experienced vampires, it was possible to be overwhelmed by the instinct to hunt. I had not known that I could succumb so deeply as to forget why I cared. It had been so easy…

What could I do now? I was somewhere in middle of Seattle, the most densely populated area in the state. I groaned, and it came out a tortured sound. I was absolutely surrounded by people. A nightmare. I needed to get out of here, but as I had just learned firsthand, the daylight would hinder my movements. I considered my options. Other Bellas in my head reeled, trying to ignore the sensory inputs which were so incessant now. Trying to ignore the blood.

Another low moan escaped my lips.

"I need to get out of here," I whined to myself. Despite my new, incredibly sensitive hearing - yes, I could clearly hear the radio alarm clock in one apartment above telling them that it would be a toasty 75 degrees today - I had no sense of relative volume, of whether I had just yelled or if I could have been heard at all. Everything seemed like it was yelling at me, even the slight crunching of the gravel as it settled under my light feet.

It was only just past dawn. Could I sprint out of the city fast enough to hide somewhere I wouldn't be found? I felt I might cave to thirst as soon as I moved a muscle, still crouched by the sofa. If I began to move from where I now rooted myself, would I be able to make myself leave? But it would be too much a risk to stay here, waiting for darkness, I decided. Few people were up now - I could avoid both being seen, and being tempted, if I could move quickly. Momentary glee - it lasted for a fraction of a second - flowed through me. I could move quickly, that much was given, a thousand times over.

My resolve to leave moved in waves.

For a moment I considered the act… Killing. I imagined staring into the dead eyes of someone I had killed. I was surprised to realize that the idea of a corpse, of a dead human body, no longer disturbed me. It upset me, certainly, to think of a life extinguished, but it did not make me feel fear, or repulsion. Did not give me the urge to get away, in case whatever danger was still present. Instead I felt… compelled. Attracted. Curious.

I felt my face contort with disgust, at my preoccupation with the image I had conjured. Okay. There was no fucking way I was going to be like that.

So, I would fight it. But I really was no longer human.

I knew it would be a bad idea - too visible - to simply follow the roads out of town, but the act of running through random yards and hopping fences was so foreign that I felt almost guilty. I wasn't familiar with this part of Seattle, and I hoped I would run into real tree cover soon. And not a wide open suburb, which presumably would be full of kids on their way to school at this time of the morning. My mouth watered. I realized that even though my mouth felt approximately the same as before, the liquid in my mouth might actually be venom. How strange.

I ran for a long time, occupying my mind - as many parts of it that  _ could  _ be corralled - with noticing my new body. How long my strides were. How quietly I was able to pound the earth with my feet. How, even as the air whipped by me too quickly to breathe normally, I found no discomfort. I found my eyes were not bothered by the wind, either. The further out I got, the faster I pushed myself, expecting the exertion to become more difficult. It did not, even when I realized I had found the ceiling to my impossible pace. I had been going my top speed for more than a few minutes, and only realized when I attempted to go even faster. Like before, I willed myself to move faster, only this time, my body had no discernible response. There was no increase in difficulty, and it still felt like I was barely exerting myself at all. But I just could not go any faster.

Finally, I found myself thoroughly alone, deep in some dripping forest, and I let my pace slow. This was no neighbourhood park. This was untamed wilderness. I was unsure if my internal clock had been improved by my changing, but I thought it had been at least half an hour of running since I'd seen evidence of civilization. Longer since I'd heard any sounds of human activity. On a map, I didn't know where I was, other than somewhere far south, or east, of Seattle. The isolation sent a thrill through me. But that was an old response, entirely mental. I no longer had any reason to fear anything a hiker might, from getting lost to being devoured by wild animals. I was probably the most dangerous thing for miles. Bears, cougars, wolves… I was their predator now.

I didn't know my abilities very well yet. Now that I felt safe enough (or really, felt like others were safe enough from  _ me _ ) I just wanted to focus on the pure power radiating in my limbs. It was begging to be let out! I dashed around the area, dodging trees by millimeters with ease. Everything in sight should have been reduced to a streaky blur, but my perfect vision remained uncompromisingly clear.

I stopped in an instant to size up a tree. Glancing towards the top, it was easy to measure with my eyes and find it exactly seventeen times my height. I gave it an experimental two handed shove shove. The tree lurched obligingly, and I wiped the grit from its trunk on my clothes. Roots burst from the ground and sprayed dirt across the area as it gained momentum towards the ground.

_ As if you could outrun me… as if you could fight me off… _

I sighed. It was inevitable that everything would circle back to him today, given what I was experiencing. He'd said I didn't belong in his world, but here I found myself in it. Given only half of my old dream - forever  _ without  _ Edward. Was this cosmic torture?

He had been wrong about one thing, that night. I knew it the moment he'd opened his mouth to tell me that I would forget him. So completely wrong. I had not forgotten a thing of him. I remembered that he could be perfectly silent, but also the soft sounds of his breath, rustles of fabric, that he made just to let me know he was there. His mere presence had made my heart rush through its numbered beats. The scar on my wrist was a symbol of his impossible commitment. Maybe the human mind was a sieve, but some things were too big to forget, no matter how much life was piled on afterwards. A person didn't just forget about someone who had come along and peeled the mask away from the face of the world. Human or not, I would always understand my life in terms of Edward.

There was a loud crash as the fir I'd shoved sheared through brush and finally hit the ground. I heard the shriek of an animal as its hiding place was destroyed. My muscles tensed involuntarily, aware, again, of prey. There was only my inexperience to stop this hunt, and it was not enough. I flew towards the sound.

Although in theory I knew I could go on like this indefinitely, I didn't want to. Hunting, thinking, remembering. Remembering, thinking, hunting. I was getting bored. Plus, remembering hurt, and hunting only reminded me why it was so painful.

But there weren't a lot of actions to  _ take _ . I didn't know how to function without laundry to do and dinner to fix and some shitty job to show up at. I needed help, and the list of people I could call without consequences was very short - there was no one. I had no friends left, and I would not endanger Charlie. Still, there were people who even though they wouldn't want to hear from me, might be willing to help.

I was getting desperate, though. Entertaining ideas I already knew didn't work. Like signalling Alice.

It hurt to think of the last time I had tried this, still living in Forks.  _ Surely Alice is watching me, _ I'd thought.  _ She'll see I need her and come back, right? _ I'd thought, and I layed down the cut out letters on my floor, clearly legible to any psychic worth their salt. I spelled  _ ALICE I NEED YOU  _ and then _ ALICE HELP I'M DROWNING  _ and then  _ ALICE PLEASE.  _ She was still my friend, even if Edward didn't… want me.

But she never came. She wasn't looking.

I hoped desperately that maybe things were different now. That the situation had changed because  _ I  _ had changed. If she'd just been ignoring me then, well surely now if she saw me, she would come to the rescue. If not for me, she would do it to save Seattle from the barely under control, emotional wreck of a vampire I was becoming.

I reviewed the facts for the first time since I had been human: First, Alice had left with Jasper after my disastrous birthday party. That didn't need much explaining. It was easy for me to understand how one person could be more important to her than any other. Second, she'd never come back, or even sent me a goodbye. That, I couldn't explain, and I didn't want to think about.

I set about clearing a space of ground for my message, ripping out plants and tossing away pieces of rock. I dug my hands into the bare dirt to carve my message.  _ ALICE, TURNED INTO VAMPIRE, SOS _ . _ BELLA. _ That ought to do it, I thought somewhat numbly. As long as I intended to come back here, a vision of this place, and my message, would be available to her.

If she ever had reason to look. I sighed. This was pointless.

I attempted to wipe my hands off on some soft bright moss. It did nothing for the animal blood under my nails. I was living somewhat wildly. I could only imagine what I looked like.

In predictable Washington fashion, it began to rain. It even felt warm on my cold skin.

Still, old habits die hard. As accustomed as I had become to it after years spent living in the Pacific Northwest, I still avoided the rain as best I could. I sequestered myself underneath a huge tree with bark that looked like shredded paper. I felt myself become still, and knew I likely would not move for hours, or days, until I was happy that the rain had let up.

And it was beautiful: I watched leaves shimmer in skintight films of rainwater, each becoming a more intense colour as the weather swiped its wet brush over them. The ground beat gently like a drum, patiently absorbing every drop, until it couldn't any more. Puddles formed, adding new sounds to the experience. The little troughs in my letter to Alice filled up with water, muddying my message.

Each raindrop clearly reflected the forest. I was at the center of each image, the only part not hopelessly warped. I stared at my reflection in one of them until it hit a leaf and scattered. I startled. My eyes were blood red.


	3. return

Just because I had left the human world, didn't mean it had forgotten about me. I lasted two weeks twiddling my thumbs in the woods; then I couldn't stand it anymore. Alice had made no appearance, and time was ticking on.

My immediate problems were these: first, I was incredibly bored, kicking around the woods twenty four hours a day. I had nothing to do but hunt and obsess. My own thoughts were becoming insufferable, and living alone and dirty like this was no kind of life. I needed something else, something which I could not name or describe, but without which I would surely go insane long before the end of time, or however long I would live.

Secondly, if I stayed out here, just disappeared from society, it would cause me problems. I would lose my apartment and all my stuff, which bothered me, but far worse was the fact that Charlie would eventually realize I had vanished. And the idea of knowing that I would be missed, and just letting it hurt people… Well, I'd felt that. There was still a hole in my chest. So I couldn't do it. Not to Charlie. 

I could see my mother ending up okay. Renee loved me, but she also forgot things quickly. Charlie held onto them, like I did. I needed to make sure he would be okay, to give him some explanation or excuse that would keep him from wondering where I'd gone, or trying to come after me.

More practically, I thought being a missing person would be a problem if I ever developed the control to be amongst people. The Cullens had been at school every day, so I knew it was possible.

I had no idea how I might stop this chain of events where I would slowly lose everything, short of just  _ telling  _ Charlie. But any contact at all seemed out of the question. I wouldn't risk Charlie's safety like that.

I only really realized it when I crossed a road, but I'd already been drifting back in the general direction of civilization for a couple of days. That meant I'd left the secluded wilderness where I felt safe, so I turned tail and ran even further than I'd gone on my original flight. But this time, I knew I would come back.

I prepared for the trip the only way I knew how: by satiating my thirst. After, I was still thirsty, but it was muted somehow. I always  _ wanted  _ blood, because the draw was in the smell, the warmth, the taste... I shivered. But I wasn't hungry.

I also tried to clean up a little. I had to face it: I was filthy. Weeks of running around in the woods had covered me in a layer of dirt, and the rain had helped it stick more than it had washed it off. My hair was just as bad, perpetually wet and with things stuck in it. Hunting, I had discovered, was a messy business. My clothes had been ripped by animals in several places, and there were obvious dark red streaks down the front of my shirt. The best I could do was to stick my hands in a clearish puddle and scrape the blood out from under my nails. I was looking forward to a change of clothes.

I began running just before nightfall, slowing as I encountered more and more evidence of civilization. I stole carefully through quiet neighbourhoods, skirting well lit areas, and trying to imitate a human walking pace anytime I felt watched. I couldn't be sure my gait was convincing. Was  _ any  _ creature really this slow?

I still had no idea what day it was, though I knew without bothering to count that sixteen had passed since I'd awakened. I'd come close to a massacre on that first day. Now that I'd figured out hunting, would this be easier? Or more difficult?

No matter how tonight went, I had to keep planning to return to my message. I focused on my letter to Alice like a prayer.  _ Please, Alice, see me. _

She did not magically appear.

I entered the city proper in an industrial area this time, which was good, because there would surely be no late night pedestrians. The only people I'd seen so far were all sealed up inside their cars and gone quickly.

It wasn't far now.

My building was four stories of dirty whitewashed stucco, an ugly and utilitarian design from the seventies. Home. The inside offered stained carpets, leaky faucets, and a locked door. It was planted between a rotting Victorian home and a new development that was all concrete and steel and wood panels that looked like they'd spent too much time at the tanning salon. It wasn't the homiest location, but it was cheap. Well, for Seattle.

Though I'd cursed it at the time, I thanked the stars that last month my roommate had up and moved out to live with their partner.  _ For my sake and theirs, _ I thought. 

I dithered outside. I could clearly hear all the million little human noises coming from inside, and set my focus on ignoring them. There was little point in hesitating out here - if I was going to fuck this up, it wouldn't matter if it happened an hour from now or even tomorrow.  _ But this will go fine, _ I chanted internally, and let myself inside.

Nothing had really changed. Maybe the wood was a little more creaky and the plaster and little more lumpy, but even the steady neglect of the building by its managers was normal. Home, sweet affordable home. I mounted the green carpet stairs feeling like an outsider. I didn't need the safety these walls provided anymore; I compromised it with my very presence. This was a human place, and I didn't belong anymore. The heartbeats I'd heard from outside seemed to reverberate off the walls. But still I thought, this wasn't  _ so  _ hard.

Then I opened the door to the second storey hall and found one of the many heartbeats standing right in front of me.

The alien instincts came over me again, trying to yank my limbs into motion like I was possessed. My muscles were tight, begging me into a hunting crouch. I clenched my fists and fought to seem, to  _ feel _ human.

The man in the hall glanced at me and seemed to do a double take. He cleared his throat, and asked, "hey… are you alright?"

I wouldn't look at him directly. "Stay away from me," I warned, trying to keep my voice as calm as possible. I couldn't tell if I was whispering or yelling. The warm moisture in his breath seemed to be drowning me in the confinement of the hall. I blinked through it.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Are you sick or something?" He took a step towards me, and my gaze flinched up. I registered a stranger, or a neighbour I'd never met. He was looking scrutinizingly at my face from only a few feet away.

This was too much for me. I was holding onto a snarl. "I have to GO," I said, more to myself than him.

I pushed past him and forced the door to my apartment open, not yet having opened the lock. I tried to slam it shut behind me, but instead I tore the entire doorknob right out of the door, splintering the wood. The door bounced right back open. I dropped the knob on the floor and backed away. Shit.

It wasn't any better in here. I could still hear the guy's heartbeat just as clearly through the walls, and it was shaking my thought trains right off of their tracks. 

"Bitch," I listened to him mutter from the hall, and pull his keys out.

This had been such a terrible idea. Every part of me was tense as I willed myself to stay put. It didn't help that my apartment, like the hall, was filled with human scents - my  _ own  _ human scents. (That fact was interesting as well as agitating and infuriating.)

More than once during my old search for one of  _ them _ , I'd feared the possibility of a vampire seeking me out on their own terms. Coming into my apartment. Doing what vampires usually did to humans…

Now  _ I  _ was that vampire. I smiled, a little. I was sure it was more of a grimace. There was at least  _ one  _ less horrifying future for me to worry about.

After having let my thoughts wander, I felt saner, like I would probably stay put if I allowed my fists to unclench. Slowly, I relaxed. My throat still burned, and the sounds still sought out my ears with impunity, but I thought I could leave if I needed to. I shook out my limbs. Eventually, the burning would become intolerable. But for now I was able to put it out of my mind, and I could concentrate. Nothing was stopping me from bursting straight out the window and making a run for it, if that became necessary.

The first thing I wanted to do was get clean. I stripped and threw my clothes straight in the trash - they couldn't be saved. Then I turned on the shower and stepped in. It was blissful, everything rain wasn't: hot, and high pressure. I was surprised to notice that the water didn't really wet my skin. Instead it and ran off like on a raincoat. The best part - the falling water dampened every other sound that was pulling at me.

For a while I got lost in the novel sensations. I kept cranking up the hot water until the cold tap was off entirely. It would have burned human me, and set me off cursing, but now the intense heat just felt amazing. Small comforts. I washed my hair like this, luxuriating under the stream until the heat of the water started to diminish and I realized I'd used it all up. 

Now onto my real business here. I had been planning to pack a couple of boxes, but I realized quickly I would have nowhere to take them. I didn't really want to leave all my stuff for the management company to throw out, though. What if they reported me missing? What would happen to my bank account? I thought about ID expiration dates, and how it would not be long before I seemed much too young to be my legal self. By the time I was able to tolerate society again, I might not be able to participate much. Hmm. Another one for the problem pile.

I shook my head. I could only deal with thing at a time. First, packing. I started in my bedroom, pulling together into a mountain on my bed practical clothes, favourite books, and the flip phone Charlie had gotten me. There were three missed calls - all from the bookstore I worked at. I was probably fired. It didn't matter, since I couldn't go back. They would remember human Bella as just another mediocre employee that ghosted them. I decided not to listen to the messages.

In my kitchen I hesitated, trying to think if there was anything I might still need. But what was I going to do with two sets of cutlery and a few cheap pots and pans? Cook dinner?  _ Toss _ , I decided for the contents of my kitchen. I pulled out a garbage bag and started emptying cupboards and drawers.

In the end, my backpack was filled (stuffed, maybe, was more accurate) with things I knew I would miss, like my deteriorating copy of  _ Wuthering Heights _ and my camera. I threw everything else with some value in a bin on the curb - as long as it didn't rain heavily overnight, someone would be happy tomorrow. I took out the trash bags of my old possessions, along with the actual trash and recycling that had been sitting getting rank during the time that I'd been gone.

When I was done, the place looked empty, and I was sad to see it that way, even though emptying it had been the whole idea. I hoped the building manager would see that I'd taken my stuff, generally cleaned up, and assume I was skipping out on the last month's rent. If I was lucky - though I hadn't been so far in this life - they would content themselves with my damage deposit and forget about me.

I'd been pretty miserable while I lived here, though not because of the place itself. I'd been more or less miserable for years, observing the seasons and just getting by. I was miserable now, visiting and trashing all my worldly possessions. Packing up my last home made me feel so sad, I actually sat down. I took last looks of the floor with its old patchy varnish, the probably not purposefully off-white walls. In my lap, I gripped tightly my backpack of possessions. I could still hear the heartbeats, but I wasn't listening to them anymore. I sat in my apartment until I could see the sky begin to prepare for dawn, and I knew I had to leave.

On my way out of town, I hit an ATM, completely draining my bank account. I had just under $500 dollars to my name. It would probably last a while, since I didn't have to buy food or stay anywhere, but it didn't feel like much.

With everything I owned on my back, I ran out of Seattle.

Because I needed to keep it in my future, and because I had nowhere else to go, I returned to my letter to Alice. It was in a poor state without me around to fix it constantly, muddied by rain and forest life. I regarded it for a moment: if the message wasn't legible, it wouldn't matter if Alice could see it.

I quickly tore around looking for rocks. I could use them to make my SOS a little more permanent.

Hopefully it wouldn't need to be so enduring, but now it would be.  _ ALICE, TURNED INTO VAMPIRE, SOS, _ I read over.

Now it was back to hunting, thinking and remembering. Trolling around the forest, bored. Listening to the bugs.

I couldn't see much of an alternative to my current situation of hiding in the woods forever. The Cullens had had a home and a family. Hobbies and lives and comfort. I was living like wild animal. 

Maybe if Alice didn't find me…  _ I  _ could find  _ them _ . Hunt them down. If I'd learned anything from the ordeal with James, it was that vampires were great trackers. Vampires hunted - or well,  _ we _ \- hunted by scent. I didn't feel like a tracker, but I didn't have any other ideas.

I also didn't know their scent, but I had an idea where to find a sample: Forks. Their house would still be there. Surely it would be just as simple as going there, and smelling it?

Maybe my transformation had made me more impulsive, but as I looked around me for a reason to stay, I realized I could not. I'd never be able to enforce on myself staying lonely and dirty and bored forever. The moment I had a better idea, I was running.

Loosely following the familiar two lane highway, I stuck to the woods on my way to Forks. That was easy in this overgrown state. At first I ran quickly, eager to have a goal, but after a while I started taking the long way around obstacles, dreading opening up an old wound. I wasn't sure how much this was going to hurt.

Eventually the forest thinned around me for a final time, and I entered the clearing around the Cullen house, though it was not so clear anymore. Weeds covered the gravel driveway now too, almost causing it to disappear. The house though, was still beautiful. It was a tall old Victorian, with deftly carved gables. I remembered Esme had always been painting this or refitting that, taking pleasure in the maintenance of the large home. There was certainly plenty of room for a large family of vampires.

The porch steps creaked under my lightest step. I tried not to think about the other times I'd stood here. The last, I hadn't even left my truck, just sat in the driver's seat, grieving.

The front door was locked, unsurprisingly. The porch windows were shut tight, too. What to do, without damaging the house?

I glanced behind me. I didn't mean any harm, but it was hard not to feel paranoid entering a locked house that wasn't mine. For that matter, I didn't even know that the house was still  _ theirs _ . But I'd smelled no human scents outside, and the yard was a mess of ferns and young trees. It seemed to have simply been abandoned. So there was no reason this break and enter would ever get back to Charlie.

In the back of my brain, some part of me played out an impossible, but still plenty painful sequence of getting arrested for breaking in, then being confronted by Charlie, and finally drinking his blood. I rolled my eyes at myself. Even with dozens of tabs running in my browser of a brain at once, vampires were still  _ so  _ single minded. Even as I thought this, I was more horrified than amused.

And even more dominant was the focus on getting inside. I looped around the house, but found no easy way in. So I did what I'd discovered I could do yesterday, and pushed my way through the front door. The lock splintered out of the frame, filling the air with the scent of wood and paint.

"Sorry, Esme," I whispered.

If the outside of the house had seemed abandoned, the inside was worse. All the art was gone. So was the piano. It was almost like I'd imagined every detail. The characters were long gone, and now the setting would become just a figment, too. The only thing left on the entire first floor besides the walls themselves was a couch, draped in sheets. I recognized the shape of it; I'd sat there once. I was opening birthday presents.

I avoided it like a dead thing.

Now I was here. I opened my mouth and tasted the air. It was stale and cool, with a touch of mold, the outside leaking in from somewhere. But also something sweet, like flowers, clean skin, candy. In the back of my head, another Bella screamed a little at this scent. I did another pointless shoulder check. Nothing. Obviously. I would hear anyone approach long before I'd see them in the room behind me. It was just the scent, awaking some new instinct. I understood my own reaction quickly: weren't other vampires the only thing that could hurt me now?

As a test, I held my own hair to my nose. The scent was masked by dirt and rain, but underlying… it was the same as the house. The scent of vampires was all I was reacting so anxiously to. I smiled: what I was looking for was clearly still here.

I'd seen vampires track scents. I knew they could do it over long distances, and tell individuals' scents apart. I couldn't seem to pick out the ones around me. I took another drawn out breath. Maybe this just took practice I didn't have. Or maybe, I was just too late to learn anything, their scents indiscernibly faded into one. I had no one to tell me what was right.

I flitted upstairs, to check if the scent might be stronger in other parts of the house. I was developing a morbid curiosity, too. What other memories could I destroy by viewing empty rooms? The door to Rosalie's bedroom hung open. Inside, a stripped king size bed. Lifeless. Alice's room, once filled with a million little trinkets and products, was totally empty. She had liked the busyness of a borderline mess, but there was nothing to indicate the room had ever been lived in. Not even an indent in the carpet. The scents were weaker here than they'd even been downstairs.

I entered Edward's room last, ready for it to hurt. And it did. But overwhelmingly I was curious and hopeful, because in this room there was finally something left behind.

Edward's music filled the built in wall of shelves. Well, some of it. Only a few shelves held any discs, with most of the rest sitting empty. I recognized nearly all of the titles. His CD player was here, too - not the expensive soundsystem, but the little gray one he'd bought for us to use in the meadow.

I frowned down at an empty paper CD sleeve, laying on the ground. I bent to touch it, gingerly, because it was something of Edward's. So there was some life left in this house after all. Edward had stood here, listened to some last CD and never put it away. I hit the On button on the player. The good little thing still had battery after sitting unused for years. I clicked play - if this was an invasion of privacy, I didn't care.

Floating piano notes, gently spaced.

Debussy. Clare de Lune.

A favourite. Our song.

I sank down to the floor, listening. Remembering. Trying not to remember, and failing.

The first time we listened to Clare de Lune, in this very room, I'd told him some story from my childhood about making rain sticks from chinchilla droppings. I'd been embarrassed. To distract I had turned to his record player, and let Clair de Lune out into the air. Then  _ he'd _ been embarrassed. It had been the closest a vampire and his weak little human could get to an even playing field.

I allowed the song to play out. Or it allowed me to listen. Actually, I was nailed to the floor until the track changed. Even then I still did not move, meditating on my surroundings. Other soft piano compositions played.

After a while, I found that the room  _ did  _ smell like Edward, and his scent became as much the music. I inhaled it, considering, memorizing. Clearly it was the same delicate musk I'd loved as a human, but a completely different experience now. I luxuriated in it, fully aware of it being borrowed comfort.

After several minutes, the CD changed to something too upbeat, and the moment was ruined. It was minor, choppy, and it agitated me.

I got up and left impulsively, without turning it off.

On my way out, I found that the others' scents were easier to parse, maybe because I had meditated on Edward's. For better or worse, my new mind would never forget the scents I had just absorbed.

But for now, as soon as I hit the trees, I inhaled deeply the wet clean Earth smell of the forest, leaving the house and the memories behind.

I was only travelling for a minute or two before I started to feel watched. I was probably just psyching myself out - I'd just had an emotionally heavy experience, after all. Whenever I looked back, nothing was there. Whenever I stopped to listen, there nothing but birds and streams and animals, running about or panting quietly. But the feeling did not fade, so I picked up my pace.

Then I heard it. The thundering run of many feet, only a few hundred meters behind me. I wasted a second to look behind me, and was able to glimpse the head of some creature. A wolf, hunting or running from something.

As impervious as I was, I had no desire to get in this predator's way if I wasn't hunting it, and I was too wrapped up in my own head for that right now. I jumped into a tree, one of those towering cedars, and waited for the wolf to pass by.

It was absolutely massive, several times the size of the biggest dogs I'd ever seen. It barreled past my tree incredibly fast. Then I was puzzled to see it stop and double back. With its nose to the ground, it wandered over the ground until it came to where I had launched myself into my tree. Then it looked right up at me.

Was it following  _ me _ ? Why?

The wolf sat back on its hind legs and let loose a howl. I heard the sounds of running again, and two more of the huge wolves joined the first one. They seemed to communicate, somehow. The wolves backed up, coiling-

My tree shook violently. The wolves were slamming themselves into the trunk. How strong were they to cause my perch to tremble? And  _ why?!  _ I jumped into the open air. I hated freefall: waiting in limbo, hoping that gravity would catch up with my intentions before my pursuers.

I landed solidly on my feet, sinking inches into the moss covered ground. I whirled, looking wildly around myself for escape. 

There was none; they had found me already. A wolf, many times my size but only inches from my face, expelled a hot, humid breath from its nostrils, sending my hair fluttering. It seemed to seek out my gaze. Several seconds passed, and its brown eyes bored into mine. I stared back openly, and dared not move.

Somewhere in the distance, a howl sounded. The change in the wolf in front of me was instantaneous: its flesh pulled taut over its teeth, ready to rip and tear! It released a ragged cry and hurled itself forward.

All I could manage was to avoid sharp teeth. I could not move in time to escape, and  _ that was impossible. _ I swung my arms around wildly, trying to push myself away from the beast. It screeched and reared when my palm made contact with is wet nose. In hysterics, grateful no desperate tears could fall to obscure my vision, I fled.  _ What the hell was that!!! _

For hours, I just ran. For all I knew, I might have been going in circles. I was just focussed on getting away, and fast. There were apparently things about being a vampire that I had been spared knowledge of.

His voice surprised me. It was always much more vivid than my memories of anything else.

_ "Don’t go in the woods alone. I’m not always the most dangerous thing out there," _ I remembered him saying, a lifetime ago. It was still shiver worthy. Were these wolves what he'd been talking about? What else was out there that I had no idea of? The depths of the forest, my solace during these last weeks, the place where everyone was safe from me, and I them… well, they no longer felt very safe.

My bad luck must have increased along with my strength and speed. Although… maybe that wasn't it. They was clearly supernatural: the beasts  _ had  _ kept up with a me, after all. Maybe there was another reason they targeted me, that hadn't been an issue when I'd been in Forks before…

I could think of only one significant change.

But no; I shook my head to clear it. The idea was clearly ridiculous. Vampires were just too, well, overpowered. The whole  _ point  _ of them was to prey on the most successful animal, the human, I reasoned. I began comparing them to the strongest and most dangerous animals I could think of. The largest, the fastest, the most poisonous. Vampires were so clearly the predator in every possible relationship, they could never be the prey. The only thing that could possibly hurt a vampire was another vampire.

Some very hungry wolves had seen a human shaped thing and run themselves ragged for dinner, was how I explained it to myself. It didn't seem true, but I wasn't going to go back and find out, so it would have to do.

Eventually in my running, I crossed some road. I followed it, running parallel at a distance where I could follow the scent of asphalt and exhaust, but still be obscured from view by the masses of fauna. The road took me to the familiar outskirts of Port Angeles.

The sun was just setting as I mercifully left the trees behind for civilization. Though in the absence of information my safety was only an assumption, I felt calmer here in human territory. I hid myself outside a deserted convenience store.

I was fully avoiding the woods… and now that I was safe, the weight of the day came down on me all at once. What did Edward's CD mean? Were those wolves really trying to kill me? I'd surely cured my boredom, but now I was scared.

I pulled my phone out of my pack of possessions. I cradled it in my hands, reminding myself that it was useless. No one gave a shit about me except for Charlie, and I was avoiding him for his own good.

For comfort, I dialed Alice's old number, disconnected years ago. I was startled to hear it go through, and hung on while it rang and rang. But the voicemail message told me her number had been redistributed to a construction company. I sighed.

But I held on to the phone, wishing desperately for someone who could tell me things would be okay. And I gave in, eventually, to the idea forming in some backwater layer of my mind. There was one person I hadn't contacted in years, but might be curious enough to pick up the phone and tell me I would be okay. And then forget about me again afterwards - the most important part, for his safety.

I dialed the number the first moment I really considered the idea in the forefront of my mind. God, I was desperate.

Hopefully there would be somebody home. I wasn't sure I would have the courage to call twice.

"Hello?" I heard a gruff voice when the line picked up.

"Hi, Billy. It's, um. It's Bella."

"Bella? Bella Swan?"

"...Yeah. Hi. I know it's been a long time."

I knew Billy believed in the legends of the cold ones. Jacob had thought of his dad as old fashioned and superstitious, like it wasn't cool to have a history or something. I was living proof the stories were true. It would be silly to think Billy would be able to tell what I'd become over the phone, just from the sound of my voice. But suddenly I was worried.

"Why are you calling?" he asked me. No  _ how are you _ . No  _ you used to be a daily fixture in my son's life, and then he cast you away, how did your life turn out? _

"Well, I was kind of hoping I could talk to Jacob. I wasn't sure if this was the right place to call anymore."

"It can be," he said, not confirming or denying.

"Oh," I said.

"What did you want to talk to him about?" Billy asked.

"I need to… ask his advice on something," I hedged.

A long few seconds ticked by, while Billy said nothing.

"Look… I know it's been years, and Jacob probably doesn't want to hear from me, but I don't have anyone else I can talk to right now. And I really… really just need to talk to him."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but he's not around right now."

Fuck. I could hardly get the ordinary-sounding words out. "Oh. Okay. Well, thanks anyways…" My throat produced them clear as a bell, though I felt wooden. I needed somebody else who could pull the strings on this sad, useless puppet and make my hands hang up the phone.

But Billy Black spoke again. "Wait. Bella… Look, Charlie's mentioned… that he hasn't heard from you in a while."

Oh, this had been a terrible idea on a long list of my terrible ideas. He  _ was  _ going to tell Charlie about this. And then what, when I couldn't tell my dad I was okay? When I couldn't face him at all?

"Things are kind of complicated, right now. I probably can't come back to Forks… for a while." Or ever. My single recent visit still had me shaking in my boots.

"I see. You know, under certain circumstances, that might be best." Certain circumstances? What exactly did Billy think I'd gotten myself into? Drugs? "But as long as you were taking… certain measures, maybe I could tell Charlie, and Jacob, that I heard you were okay. We wouldn't want them to get hurt."

"Of course not."

"Or anyone."

"I would  _ never  _ hurt anyone," I whispered. I wasn't sure if it was the truth.

Billy cleared his throat. "Well, good then."

I could think of nothing to say.

"Goodbye, Bella," said Billy.

I echoed him, and the line went dead. I put my phone down, feeling like I'd confessed something.

Oh, I wished I could cry. It was so easy to imagine how a big fat tear would feel drawing a streak down my cold cheek. Instead I gasped unsatisfying, useless breaths for hours. No release came - I shook and cried until I heard voices in the early dawn, and I ran from them.


End file.
